Chapter 1: It was Just a Pencil Through the doors of the grand courtroom of Keesh, an outside observer might believe

nothing was happening. They couldnt be more wrong. YOU BREAK INTO THE RICHEST WOMAN IN THE CITYS HOUSE, AND STEAL A PENCIL? Screeched the judge at the thief, sitting chained to a chair and tied to two guardsmen standing on either side. Its a good thing they only found out about the pencil. A HOUSE WHICH HAD BEEN BROKEN INTO NOT TEN MINUTES BEFORE? The thief sat, with his mind racing. In his ten years of thieving, he had never been caught. That was for amateurs, cutthroats, bandits, pickpockets and the like, not a professional thief like him. He was being too cocky. It was his mantra to be careful. To never be cocky. That was an amateur mistake and worthy of his tongue being cut off in the Thieves Guild. It was still a bonus they didnt realize that he was the one that had broken out ten minutes before. YOU WILL BE SENTENCED TO DEATH! It was a good thing he was freelance. Anyone not in the Guild and as good as him could break out of any jail west of the Circle Sea before the day long wait for the noose. Wait, your honor! What? No one knew who he was, no one knew he was a thief; no one even knew he existed. The ship captains whose ships he took passage soon forgot of his existence, and his old fences were paid so well they never told their information. I have information on who this man really is! The thief looked up. His piercing gray eyes settled on the man standing in the witness booth. He never forgot a voice, and he never forgot a face. And he recognized both of them. It was his fence, the one he had back in Khal-Modeen, the one that he had paid the most kirr. He was the only fence he trusted enough to reveal he was the thief that had bounties of millions and millions of dollars, enough to get more than if you won the Keeshian lottery on a day when the Grand Dragon Prince was feeling charitable. He was the one he thought would never betray him. He was the one he must have been wrong about.

This man is not who he seems! He is the thief that no one has ever caught! He has a bounty of more money than the treasury of most small countries! HOW DARE YOU! I PAID YOU MORE MONEY THAN MY BOUNTY AT THE TIME FOR YOU TO KEEP QUIET! I PAID YOU ENOUGH FOR YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY TO LIVE LIKE KINGS! As the thief, so angry he was close to foaming at the mouth, screamed these words, he realized something. His fence had been pointing at the guard next to him. His blind rage had doomed him to life in prison, if he was a normal man. But his skills had perfected his speed lock picking, and while the whole courtroom turned into a melee, it seemed to him as if time had slowed down for the sole purpose of him escaping. He escaped from the handcuffs with the ease that can only be gained through years of practice, taking him less than a few seconds within his slowed down perception of time. And a true thief never goes anywhere without his kit. So in the time it took him to escape from his handcuffs, he already had mentally selected the perfect item to escape from the rope binding him to the chair. One quick jerk with a stiletto broke the rope, and gave him a perfect weapon. A springboard leap on the chair landed him within feet of the door, but by this point his slowed down perception had ended, and he was on his own for the escape. One stab took down the guard standing at the door, killing him with no pain, and not enough time to make a sound. But lasted just enough time to alert the others. Reverting into speed mode, he threw the stiletto behind him, hitting a guard in the leg and leaving only two left. Running to the door he quickly lifted the bar and threw behind him, hitting the downed guardsmans chest and trying to open the door, he realized that this was a Klatchian doorlock. It would be impossible to pick it without at least a few minutes of complete concentration, and it was Khal-Modeenian iron-wood, so it would take a small army with a few battering rams a year to break it open. As he was considering this, the back door of the courtroom burst open, and it filled with reinforcements. The thief was shot with a blunt arrow in the chest, hard enough to bruise, but not to injure. The thief fell on his knees, and felt a sword on his throat. As he fell, one thought flew threw his mind, making the second it took to reach the floor seem like an eternity. Revenge.

Chapter 2: Any Jail West of the Circle Sea As the thief came too, he started to involuntarily shiver. He never dreamed of being back in a place like this, almost identical to the prison cell he started his training in, with his old master, teaching him everything he could in a 5 square

meter jail cell. Right up until how to escape. He often wondered what had happened to the old man, probably died in the cell, but, who knows? Any good thief always has a few tricks up his sleeve, and the man who trained him certainly was a good thief, if an old one. The thief started laughing at the folly of those who had thrown him into this prison, this little underground shack, for anything that has a door or a window can be escaped from; no matter how much time it would take. So the thief started pacing, trying to piece together an escape route, or anything really. So the thief inspected the window, made from Klatchian steel, nigh impossible to break, and heard the sound of the sea from the window, the crashing of waves, baying of gulls, and a few cursing fishermen, of course. This clued him to that he was either on the Circle Sea, the Tiben River, or the Acken. He silently hoped he was on the Acken River and not the Tiben or the Circle Sea, because the Acken bordered Klatch and he could make a much better profit in Klatch than in Kanu. Then he heard something he had hoped never to hear again. The screech of a Kurak-Ha. RUN FOR COVER! THEYLL DESTROY US ALL! WHAT IS THAT THING? SAVE ME! IM BURNING! It all happened at once. The Kurak-Ha burned the town to the grown, razing everything. The thief saw it happen from his window. The green-scaled creature flew through the sky, burning everything in its path with terrible fire, almost white-hot from the already hot sea air. It looked vaguely like a dragon of the old legends, but it was so terrifyingly real. With the threat of a Kurak-Ha in his mind, he worked overtime to escape from the cell, rallied by the cries of terrified, confused, enraged, hungry, and filthy prisoners baying for blood and crying for fear. He picked up an old nail and attempted to pick the lock, but he couldnt. Any jail west of the Circle Sea. He wasnt west of the circle of the circle sea anymore. He was in Keesh. Keeshians spared no expense in the search for luxury and security, and had found a quite little niche in the perfect combination of the two and held on for dear life. He reached for his kit, and realized that he wasnt wearing his customized thieving clothes anymore, with dark patterns to hide in the shadows, padded boots to silence the steps, and pockets for all he had and could find. He was wearing a tattered sackcloth outfit that they had thrown him in when they put him in jail and confiscated his kit. Maybe with his kit and his outfit he could escape and make it across the ocean, but there wasnt a chance in hell of him escaping the conventional way in a Keeshian prison. But maybe he could escape unconventionally. With the threat of the Kurak-Ha driving him and everyone around him, he might be able to get out using nothing but skill and a little bit of luck. But knowing him, he might be able to substitute luck for some skill. He started banging the door to attract the guards, until he looked down and noticed some food. He threw the water at the other prisoner, as with the bread. Reaching

down to get the cheese, he felt something hard and metallic, a key! He quickly slotted it in and slipped out of the cell taking of the sackcloth shirt and the old sandals they had slipped on him, and slid into the darkened hallway of the prison, while the confused prisoner he had been throwing his food at gobbled it down and tried to lick the water of the cell bars. A guard came down the corridor to yell at him for eating more than his daily ration, but the thief snuck up behind and put his left hand over the guards mouth and his right arm in a chokehold of his neck. Quickly throwing on the guards uniform and putting his weapons in his belt, he dragged the guard into his cell, slammed the door, and locked it. As he walked through the prison, all he could hear were the muffled screams of the villagers being slowly slaughtered by the Kurak-Ha. Chapter 3: I Dont Think Were in Keesh Anymore As the thief strode out of the prison, he noticed something. There were trees everywhere, so many trees the eye could barely count them. Large trees, small trees, brown trees, white trees, leafy trees, leafless trees, trees as far as the eye could see. But there werent any coastal forests in Keesh The only major forested area was Khal-Modeen. The only Kurak-Ha breeding place was in Khal-Modeen He wasnt in Keesh anymore He was in Khal-Modeen, he was in his home, and he was in Khal-Modeenian territory again without any of his kit. For any normal man, this would mean death. But he was not a normal man. Scrambling up the side of a small ironwood building he started dancing and screaming. The Kurak-Ha turned, its attention drawn by the thief and started shooting towards him in the air, its small brain thinking of one thought. Kill. As the Kurak-Ha shot through the air, the thief prepared himself to jump. One split second before the Kurak-Ha hit the thief, he jumped and landed exactly on the neck of the Kurak. I hope I remember the lessoSCREEEEEEEE! As the wild Kurak-Ha screeched and thrashed, the thief reverted into simple muscle memory and reached to his waist to grab one of his extendable poles. Shi- SCREEEEEEE! No equipment this might make things difficult the thief silently thought as his hand grabbed the air that wouldve been his belt. He wrapped his arms around the creatures neck and started to choke as hard as he could, while screaming Khal-Modeenian phrases that the Kurak might have heard or been trained with before. As the thief pulled with all his might, the dragon suddenly went very calm

and slowly lowered itself to the ground, waiting for the thief to hit it like a normal Khal-Modeenian warrior. But the thief just yelled, and forced the Kurak back into the sky